Television
by Everystep
Summary: The Soul Society gets access to "quality" television. Unfortunately certain people take it a little too seriously...updates are irregular but I'll try not to be too flaky!
1. Yumichika: Maury

This idea of shinigami watching TV has been nagging me for the longest time, and after a long day of quality procrastination here it is. This is just for fun. Don't take it too seriously! My life is somewhat stressful right now, so as a result all I seem to write are these just for fun type things. I don't need anymore drama haha.

Anyway. For those of you who don't know what "Maury" is, it's a daytime talk show that is not quite as trashy as Jerry Springer but much less trashy than Oprah. One of the things they do a lot is have these women come in who have no idea who the father of their child is and do paternity tests, and usually they end up _still_ not finding out who he is after like 30 tests. No joke. Television at its finest.

Disclaimers!

I own neither Bleach nor Maury.

* * *

"Thomas, when it comes to three-year-old Jackson, you…are _not_ the father."

"Oh my- IKKAKU!" yelled Yumichika Ayasegawa, pacing around the room in a panic.

"Yumichika! What is it?" asked Ikkaku Madarame, running towards him.

"It's terrible…this woman has been with so many men that she doesn't know the father of three-year-old Jackson is!"

"Yumichika, are you watching the Maurice show again?"

"It's MAURY. Not Maurice. And of course I'm watching it. If we are going to be assigned to the real world, we need to have a thorough understanding of the people living in it. It seems to be an impossible task, right? However, this man has condensed all the information I need to know into a convenient hour-long program! How can I _not _watch? It is a my duty as a shinigami to pay attention to every word this man says!"

It had been almost a month since Captain Mayuri Kurotsuchi, president of the Research Institute of Technology, had found a way for popular television programming in the real world to reach the Soul Society, and all of the Gotei 13 found itself hooked. Yumichika was no exception, having grown quite attached to daytime talk shows.

Ikkaku sighed.

"Yumichika, I think you're missing the point, this show is about-"

"QUIET! It's coming back on," Yumichika snapped, sitting rigidly on the edge of the couch.

_"That concludes our program for today. Next week, we will be doing a special on interventions. If you have any friends or loved ones who you suspect may have a drinking problem, please call…"_

"WAH! RANGIKU-SAAAAAN!" cried Yumichika, recoiling against the cushions.

"What about her?" Ikkaku asked.

"She needs this program," he whispered dramatically, hastily scribbling down the numbers flashing across the screen. "Ikkaku! We can't afford to waste another moment! Just think, at this very moment, Rangiku-san could be alone, crying into a pitcher of sake!" His eyes shone with tears. "It would be…so ugly…"

"Since when have you cared that much about Vice-Captain Matsumoto?"

"SILENCE! We need to help our dear neighbor in her this time of need! Don't tell me you haven't noticed her stumbling back into the tenth division late at night with Vice-Captain Hisagi!"

"With HIM?!"

Yumichika nodded, covering his mouth with his hand.

"So shameful…"

"Yumichika, how do you know all of this? Are you spying on other divisions?" Ikkaku asked, crossing his arms.

"Th-that's unimportant!" Yumichika mumbled, looking at the floor. "But I am calling this number!" he said, dialing his cell phone.

"You idiot! Our phones can't contact the real world like that! We can only use them for calls to others within the Soul Society!"

"Well I hear it ringing!"

"Impossible!" Ikkaku scurried towards Yumichika, holding his ear up to the phone.

A woman's voice said clearly and slowly: "Thank you for calling 'Maury'. Your call is important to us, so please continue to hold until one of our operators is able to assist you. Please note that your call may be monitored for quality assurance."

"I don't believe this," Ikkaku muttered.

"Shh! Listen, Ikkaku, is that…music?" Both men pressed their ears against the earpiece, faces scrunched in intense concentration.

_How can I just let you walk away, just let you leave without a trace?_

"Is…is this man singing for us while we wait for one of their operators to assist us?" Ikkaku wondered, turning to Yumichika, who still listened intently.

"I think he is!"

"We should offer our thanks!"

Yumichika nodded. "Th-thank you for entertaining us!" he stuttered into the mouthpiece.

They both held their ears to the earpiece once more, waiting breathlessly for the response.

_Take a look at me now, there's just an empty space, and there's nothing left here to remind me, just the memory of your face…_

"He didn't accept our thanks…" Yumichika whispered sadly.

Ikkaku frowned, eyebrows knit together in concern.

"Perhaps we offended him! Maybe he didn't want his singing interrup-"

"Good afternoon, you have reached the Maury Show. How may we assist you today?" recited a woman, her voice monotone.

"G-good afternoon! I am Yumichika Ayasegawa, fifth seat of the eleventh division! My colleague is in desperate need of your assistance!" he covered the mouthpiece with his hand and turned to Ikkaku. "Was that good?" he mouthed. Ikkaku nodded vigorously and motioned back to the phone.

"Um…could you explain that a little more for me sir?"

"Of course! My poor colleague has lost herself because she drinks too much sake! I was watching your fine program earlier today and want Maury to help her!"

"Oh! So you would like to be a part of our interventions special?" the operator asked.

"Yes!" Yumichika said, hanging onto the operator's every word. He covered the mouthpiece yet again, bobbing up and down as he turned to Ikkaku. "This is it! This is it!" he mouthed.

"Shut up!" Ikkaku hissed, hitting the back of Yumichika's head lightly.

"All right then. I'll just need to take down your information. What did you say your name was?"

"Yumichika Ayasegawa."

"Yuminachik…uh…could you spell that for me, sir?"

"Certainly! It's only natural that one such as yourself would be dumbfounded in the presence of such a lovely-"

"Yumichika!" snapped Ikkaku. Yumichika rolled his eyes and slowly spelled out his name.

"Thank you. And can you give me your location?" the operator asked.

"I am located in the eleventh division," Yumichika answered matter-of-factly.

"All right…and where exactly is the eleventh division?"

"In the Seireitei, of course."

"Could you give me an address?" Yumichika looked at Ikkaku.

"An address?" he whispered. Ikkaku quickly wrote something down and shoved it at Yumichika.

"Um…Eleventh division, Seireitei, Soul Society," he read. Yumichika and Ikkaku leaned away from the phone as the operator sighed heavily into it.

"Is this some sort of a joke?" she asked impatiently.

Yumichika scoffed. "Of course not! Our friend is in danger and you're questioning my sincerity? I'll have you know that this call may be monitored for quality assurance, and this is most _definitely_ not quality assur-"

"All right, sir, please calm down. I'll see if the computer can pinpoint your location. In the meantime, can you tell me your occupation and maybe give me a work phone number?" Yumichika took a deep breath. Ikkaku patted him on the shoulder and nodded.

"Fine. I shall let you redeem yourself. I am a shinigami."

"A shinigami?"

"Yes. My phone number is-"

"Sir, do you honestly expect me to believe that? This is a waste of my time. Please do not call here again."

"Wha-" Yumichika started, but it was too late. The frustrated voice of the operator gave way to a dull, buzzing dial tone.

"Too bad. I almost thought it was going to work," Ikkaku said, shrugging as he walked out of the room.

"Hmph."

Yumichika snapped the phone shut and fell back onto the couch. He frowned, crossing his arms and staring stubbornly at the blank television screen. He glanced sideways at the remote, reached out quickly and snatched it towards himself, running his thumb over the power button just enough so that the television flickered on.

_"Welcome back to 'Family Feud'! Next week we will be doing a special competition between companies! If you and your work colleagues want to participate, please call this number right away!" _

Yumichika jumped up.

"IKKAKU! I have the most wonderful idea!"

* * *

For those wondering, the hold music was "Against all Odds" by Phil Collins. Whenever I'm on hold they always seem to play power ballads and that one just popped into my mind and stuck. This may very well continue, as there is still so much television goodness. But if people really aren't into this I'll let it die haha. Review and let me know what you think! You know you wanna.


	2. Renji: Informercials

Today has been productive indeed! Or unproductive, depending how you look at it. Anyways, now we will delve into the wonderful world of infomercials. I know I have spent many a sick day watching soap opera stars sell hair straighteners and the like. My personal favorites are when they do cleaning products. Not that I have aged silver that needs to be restored, but if I did, at least I know some industrial strength cleaning agents are out there. :P

Disclaimer: I own nothing. I made up all the product names mentioned here, but they're pretty generic, so I don't really care if other people use them...although I'm not sure who would want to haha

* * *

"Renji."

"I know."

"How did we ever live…?"

"I don't know. Go get the phone."

The clock on the wall next to the newly installed sixth division television set chimed softly as the second hand brushed past twelve, signaling the beginning of another hour. Ever since the Soul Society found a way for television programming from the real world to reach the Seireitei, Vice-Captains Renji Abarai, Izuru Kira, and Shuuhei Hisagi had discovered a plethora of products one could order over the phone and have conveniently delivered.

"Shuuhei! What are you doing? We only have nine minutes before the offer runs out!" Renji yelled, glancing over his shoulder at the door.

"I know! Where do you keep the phone?" Shuuhei called back.

"The captain's office."

Shuuhei jogged back into the room, shaking his head.

"I'm not going in there."

"Why not?" Renji demanded, standing up.

"What if your captain's in there?"

"He's not!"

"Eight minutes!" interrupted Izuru, pointing urgently at the clock.

Renji sighed. "Fine, I'll go get it. But he knows when someone's been in there…"

"So you wanted me to do it?" Shuuhei retorted, offended.

"It's not like he'll recognize your reiatsu!"

"Renji! Seven minutes! If you don't hurry we'll have to pay full price!" Izuru interjected again, moving to his feet and pushing Renji out the door.

"I didn't know humans could make such useful devices," Shuuhei mused.

"Indeed…just imagine all the things we could do with a juicer like that," Izuru replied.

"Yeah…I wonder how many different types of juice we can make…"

"Well, the man in the television did say there are hundreds of combinations."

"All right, I placed the order," Renji said, walking back into the room. "Three Miracle Juicers. I'm having them delivered to Ichigo's house. I'll have Rukia pick them up for me next time she's down there."

"That sounds fine…how did you pay for it?" Izuru asked.

"I told them I'd send a check."

"Renji…we don't have any money left," said Shuuhei. "Couldn't you have put it on a credit card? How have you paid for everything else we've bought?"

"It's all right, I took the money out of the sixth division's funds."

Izuru frowned. "You took the money out of your division's funds? Isn't your captain going to get upset?"

Renji shrugged. "He probably won't notice."

"As long as he doesn't know it's us," Shuuhei said, falling back down on the couch. "What are they selling now?"

"Oh…Wonder Knives," Izuru replied. "I saw that commercial last night! These are amazing…"

"Are they…are they cutting through pipes?" Renji asked, focusing in on the screen.

"Look at how that man is cutting that tomato! The knife is doing all the work for him…"

"Renji, where is the phone…? If you order now we can get a free blender…"

_Later that week…_

Renji sat in his office, resting his head on his hand and tapping a pen against the desk. He looked out the window, determined to think of some way to avoid work for another hour. However, as fate would have it, someone knocked gently on his door. He stood up, eagerly walking to greet his visitor, but froze. He detected a new person's presence on the other side of the door. An angry, violent, menacing presence that he immediately recognized Captain Byakuya Kuchiki's.

"What are you carrying, Rukia?" Renji heard his captain ask. Renji cringed, picturing Rukia carrying what could only be three Miracle Juicers, obliviously answering all of Byakuya's questions.

"Miracle Juicers…Renji ordered them from the real world and asked me to pick them up for him."

"Did he now."

Renji backed away slowly from the door, looking for an escape as he felt Byakuya grow increasingly irritated, undoubtedly furious that Renji would use his sister in this manner. He opened the window, quickly climbing through it and landing in front of the sixth division headquarters. He started running, unsure of his destination, but knowing that he needed to run far, far away. Finally he stopped in front of the eleventh division headquarters, deciding that Byakuya would not want to look for him there. He rapped loudly on the door.

"I'LL GET IT I'LL GET IT I'LL GET IT!" someone yelled from inside.

Renji looked down as a small, pink-haired shinigami flung open the door.

"REN-CHAAAAN!" yelled eleventh division vice-captain Yachiru Kusajishi, hugging his leg. "Did you come to play with Baldy?"

"Um…yes, Vice-Captain Kusajishi!" Renji answered quickly. "We're playing hide-and-seek! I need you to help me find a really good hiding spot somewhere inside! …And don't tell anyone where I am!"

"All right!" Yachiru exclaimed, leading Renji by the hand. "I know all the best places!"

"I bet you do…"

A short while later, Renji sat awkwardly under eleventh division captain Zaraki Kenpachi's desk, wondering how long it would be before he could emerge safely. He initially hesitated to utilize a captain's office as a hiding spot, but Yachiru insisted that Captain Kenpachi never entered his office, and even if he did, he wouldn't care if Renji hid there. Renji crawled out, realizing that as long as the door stayed closed he didn't need to hide out underneath the furniture. He leaned against the barren desk, listening carefully for signs of approaching danger. A sudden clamor outside the building caught his interest.

"BYA-KUUUUN!" Yachiru screeched.

Renji scrambled back under the desk, dismayed by the absence of windows in Captain Kenpachi's office. He thought of hiding elsewhere in the building, but it was no use. He was trapped, his only option to convince his captain that Izuru and Shuuhei had somehow coerced him into dipping into the division's funds.

"Yachiru, is my vice-captain hiding in here?" asked Byakuya.

"No!" Yachiru replied brightly. Renji relaxed.

"What if I were to give you some candy?" offered Byakuya.

Renji's heart sank. It was over. Now all he could do was take Izuru and Shuuhei down with him. He'd have to make it up to them later.

"Come with me! Ren-chan is hiding in Ken-chan's office!" declared Yachiru.

Renji lifted himself up off of the floor, deciding to sit at the desk and await Byakuya's wrath. Sure enough, the door creaked open slowly, Yachiru shrugging at him, lollipop in hand. Byakuya crossed his arms, glaring at his vice-captain.

"Hello, Renji…"

* * *

As always, feedback is appreciated!


	3. Ulquiorra and Grimmjow: Telenovelas

Today we will take a break from the Soul Society and venture to Hueco Mundo. As I'm sure many of you noticed they seem to have a Spanish theme going on over there, so I really really wanted to do something with telenovelas (soap operas in Spanish). I used to watch them to help me learn Spanish and they're fun. Really, all soap operas are wonderful when you're home sick and it's 3pm and you don't feel like watching Divorce Court reruns...I apologize in advance if my Spanish is wrong, it's been a while...

* * *

"Would either of you like to explain to me why the television is broken?" asked Sousuke Aizen, glaring at the two figures standing before him.

Ulquiorra Schiffer breathed in deeply and spoke.

"My apologies, Aizen-sama-"

"That doesn't answer my question."

Ulquiorra paused, glanced around the room, and gestured to the man beside him.

"Grimmjow became angry with the television set and destroyed it."

Grimmjow's head snapped harshly in Ulquiorra's direction.

"That isn't what happened! You were the one who shot it with a cero first!"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," replied Ulquiorra, innocently closing his eyes.

Grimmjow stepped in front of him and pushed him backwards.

"Don't lie to me you ba-"

Aizen placed his hand on Grimmjow's shoulder.

"This is getting us nowhere. Ulquiorra, why don't you _show_ your brothers and sisters why we no longer lave a television set?"

Ulquiorra sighed, delicately plucking out his left eye and crushing it in his hand.

"As you wish, Aizen-sama."

_Earlier that day..._

Grimmjow sat lazily in an old, ratty chair, disdainfully eyeing Ulquiorra as he entered the television room.

"Who said you could come in here, Ulquiorra?" he spat.

Ulquiorra shrugged, his hands resting in his pockets. "Aizen-sama does not restrict usage of the television."

"Whatever." Grimmjow pointed the remote at the television, raising the volume as Ulquiorra fell back onto a couch.

_"La última vez on "Sangre y Lágrimas", Paolo trazó a matar a Maria para que pueda robar a los diamantes…_*_"_

"Wait…since when did Maria have the diamonds?" Grimmjow asked, leaning forward.

Ulquiorra sighed. "Please refrain from speaking."

"I'll talk as much as I damn well please." Both men sat in silence. "Did Paolo just poison her drink?"

"It would certainly appear that way," muttered Ulquiorra, his eyes remaining fixed on the screen.

"Well Maria's not actually going to die, is she?"

"Stop asking me such foolish questions," snapped Ulquiorra.

"It's not like you wouldn't be bent up about it either, idiot!"

"That is none of your conc-"

"She's drinking it!"

"What?!"

Ulquiorra and Grimmjow watched in horror as Maria coughed and sputtered, eventually collapsing to the ground while Paolo stood over her, laughing maniacally. They both stood up slowly, reaching their hands out in front of them and pointing their fingers at the screen. The television didn't stand a chance. It exploded into little pieces, scattering around the room as both Grimmjow and Ulquiorra's ceros made contact with its fragile body.

_Back to the present...  
_

Aizen glared at the two men before him.

"I see," he said softly, his gaze holding steady.

Gin Ichimaru stood up from his chair, his trademark grin replaced with an angry scowl.

"Dammit, _Lost_ is on tonight! They were about to get off the island! I hope you're happy!"

Aizen held up one hand to silence him.

"Both of you now are responsible for traveling to the real world and acquiring a new television. If you cannot complete this task by nine o'clock this evening, you will both be assigned to look after Wonderweiss for as long as I see fit. Understood?"

Grimmjow and Ulquiorra stared at the ground.

"Yes, Aizen-sama."

* * *

_Footnotes:_

* The last time on Sangre y Lágrimas (Blood and Tears), Paolo plotted to murder Maria in order to steal the diamonds.

* * *

I completely sympathize with Gin here. If someone prevented me from watching _Lost_ I would throw a fit. Is that a hint at a future chapter? Hmm...also, if you made a request and I haven't done it it's not because I am ignoring you! I love the requests! I was really happy to see them...I just might not be familiar enough with the show to do something good with it...or I haven't been able to think of something to do it justice...


	4. Aizen and Gin: Lost

So sorry for taking so long to update! This is still in Hueco Mundo. Some OOC-ness, so beware!

I do not own Bleach or Lost.

Spoilers for the end of Lost season 4. But if you're not caught up what are you doing reading this? Go watch! Soooo gooooood...

* * *

"Again?" Sousuke Aizen asked, glaring at his frowning subordinate. "Do you mean to tell me that we have no television…again?"

"You don't understand," responded Gin Ichimaru, sitting rigidly in front of the smoking appliance, his arms crossed stubbornly in front of him. "The boat exploded. An' Clare's dead…Sawyer jumped off the helicopter…it's jus' too much!"

"So you repeatedly stabbed the television? MY television?" demanded Aizen, his voice slowly escalating in volume.

"I regret nothin'."

Aizen threw his hands up in exasperation. "Well I do! Every time I try to do something nice for all of you, you find some way to ruin it. I brought you a computer, and Ulquiorra used my credit card to buy blue face paint on E-bay. Not only that, but the seller stole my identity! Do you remember how long I was on the phone with the bank for?!"

"Wait-you're sayin' Ulquiorra _paints_ those tears onto his face? I thought he just cried all the time!"

Aizen ignored him, continuing. "And I sincerely hope you haven't forgotten what happened when I got us all copies of _Harry Potter_," he ranted, pacing back and forth.

Gin frowned. "Ah…that's right…Grimmjow locked himself in his room for three days after finishin' book six…"

"Not to mention how Szayel Aporro spent two months researching how to turn our swords into wands," Aizen added bitterly. "That's how we lost Nel."

Gin stood up. "But I thought Nnoitra split her mask open in some crazy quest for revenge or somethin'!"

Aizen shook his head, massaging his temples. "That's what I want the Espada to think. How do you think they'd react if they found out one of our highest ranked members mysteriously disappeared because Szayel got a little over zealous?"

Gin remained silent for a few seconds, his forehead furrowed in concentration. He disliked seeing his friend in such distress, especially in the midst of this whole Ichigo-and-co-invading-Hueco-Mundo fiasco.

"Tell ya what," he said, finally reaching what he deemed to be a favorable solution. "Let's take a trip down to the material world. We'll get a new television. I _promise_ no one'll stab it or cero it or experiment on it."

Aizen eyed him skeptically, one eyebrow raised.

"You _promise._" Gin nodded. Aizen sighed. "Do you know how much a new television set is going to cost me? I mean, Orihime Inoue's new outfit set me back quite a bit. And with the economy the way it is these days…" he shook his head. "I just don't see how it could work out."

"Well…what if I paid for it?" suggested Gin.

Aizen stared at him.

"You'd be willing to pay for it?"

Gin shrugged.

"I suppose I can't turn down an offer like that, can I?" Aizen said, his face relaxing back into its normal amused but menacing expression. He teased a smirk out, his eyes flickering ominously. "I'll take you up on that, Gin. Let's go."

Gin's smile retreated, a foreboding feeling flooding his stomach. He reluctantly grabbed his wallet, trying to memorize the satisfying sensation of knowing it was full of cash, almost positive that he would not be experiencing such an emotion for a long time.

_Later that day…_

Sousuke Aizen and Gin Ichimaru carefully studied the audio-visual section of Best Buy, peering into various television sets and grilling helpless employees about their merits. Gin's mood worsened every time he picked up a price tag, regretting his offer to pay for Aizen's new television set more and more with each increasingly expensive model they passed.

"This is one of our nicest models," a young, lanky man said enthusiastically, gesturing to a large television on display. "It's a flat-screen, high-def that comes with surround sound and a five year warranty."

Aizen nodded approvingly. "Five year warranty?"

"Yep," replied the salesman. "That covers pretty much anything you do to it."

Aizen stared nastily at Gin. "Even, say, if someone were to repeatedly stab it with a sword?"

Gin exhaled sharply, rolling his eyes and turning to face the other way.

The salesman glanced uneasily between the two of them. "Um…I suppose so, but I would definitely recommend…you know, not stabbing it."

"Yes, I think we are in agreement there," sneered Aizen.

"I can't take you anywhere," grumbled Gin.

"What was that? I couldn't hear you," inquired Aizen, cupping his hand to his ear.

"Never mind, I'm gonna go an' look at iPods. Come get me when ya wanna pay," snapped Gin. Aizen snickered to himself.

"Is everything all right, sir?" asked the salesman. "It seems like your friend is unhappy with this selection."

"Oh, he'll be fine," Aizen assured him. "He gets into these moods sometimes. It's not your fault."

The salesman smiled. "It seems like you've been together for a long time."

Aizen nodded. "Yes…he's been behind me for centuries. I'm lucky to have found such a faithful supporter."

"That's great…in this day and age relationships are barely worth anything. I applaud you for making it work for so long."

Aizen squinted at the salesman, confused.

"Excuse me?"

The salesman cringed. "I'm sorry! I just assumed you two were…you know, together," he mumbled, slowly stepping backwards. "I can ring you up now, if you'd like…"

"I think that would be best." Aizen followed the salesman to the register, waving Gin over from the music section.

Gin trudged over to the checkout line, reaching into his robes to pull out his wallet.

"All right, how much?" he asked miserably.

"The total's going to be $7,052.76," recited the salesman. Gin inhaled deeply, carefully placing bills down on the counter.

"Gin, how is it possible that you have so much cash?" demanded Aizen, watching in disbelief as Gin continuously extracted money from his wallet.

"I don't tell you everything I do," he muttered, refusing to meet Aizen's stare.

"Apparently not," scoffed Aizen. "You know, you should really put that in some sort of account. I wouldn't feel comfortable just leaving it around Las Noches-"

"Shut it, will ya?" hissed Gin, laying down the last bill. "All right, let's get goin'," he said as the salesman loaded the television onto a flatbed cart. " _Mythbusters_ is on tonight. Y'know how excited Szayel gets…"

"Indeed," mused Aizen, opening a large garganta in the parking lot. "You know, that salesman thought we were _involved_," he told Gin matter-of-factly.

Gin recoiled in disgust, his upper lip curling.

"He _what_? I'm definitely never goin' out shopping with you again," he said, stepping into the opening.

Aizen nodded, wheeling the television in after him.

"You never did tell me how you make all that money…"

* * *

I miss Lost so much! *cries* At least it's coming back soon.

I did not intend to make Aizen and Gin bicker like an old married couple. But once I started writing this chapter that's what came out haha. You are more than welcome to make requests for future chapters. I will try my best to accommodate!

Best Buy, iPods, and anything else I mentioned belongs to their respective owners.


End file.
